


Winter Weight

by KeybladeCryptography



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Autistic Roxas, Because I'm autistic and I also hate clothes shopping, Gen, Not intended as shippy but you can read it that way if you squint, Shopping, mentions of food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeybladeCryptography/pseuds/KeybladeCryptography
Summary: Rox and Ven WeekDay 3: CoatRoxas needs something warmer to wear in the Land of Departure and is less than thrilled with this. Ven helps him look.
Relationships: Roxas & Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Winter Weight

Winter is non-existent in sundrenched Twilight Town, a far cry from the cold air and glittering snow blanketing the Land of Departure. This is a problem for two reasons: The first is that Xion fell in love with snow two seconds after experiencing it for the first time but Lea and Isa refuse to pack up and move no matter how much Aqua invites her and Roxas to live in a more stable environment. The second is that Roxas doesn’t own any warm clothing, which is a problem because Aqua is also his math tutor and the mansion is big and drafty and no one’s figured out how to fix the heater. It’s hard for Roxas to learn about decimals when his teeth are chattering.

This is how Roxas finds himself wasting away a perfectly good Saturday afternoon on clothes-shopping of all things. He scowls at his recent texts because he doesn’t want to have fun and live in the moment, no matter what Sora says, but he pockets his phone anyway. He squints against the fluorescent glare of their third Radiant Garden department store as Ven (“you wear the same size, just go together”) holds up an electric lime polar fleece for Roxas’s appraisal. He sighs at a higher volume than necessary and Ven puts his hands up and puts it back on the rack. For reasons Roxas doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to comprehend, Ven is not discouraged in the slightest by the amount of time they’ve spent shopping or Roxas’s sour mood. “Got it, got it. Maybe the next aisle?”

Roxas groans. “Forget it, Ven. We’re not going to find anything. I’ll just freeze to death.”

Ven drapes himself over Roxas’s back, arms swinging around wildly until he finds Roxas’s freezing hands and grasps them. Ven is touchy. Roxas is too cool to admit that he kind of likes the constant hugging so he settles for grunting. “Not an option,” Ven says. “Also, your hands are cold.”

“Ven,” Roxas says in the most annoyed voice he can muster . . . which is less annoyed than he would like because really, he’s more tired than anything. At best, it has no effect on Ven whatsoever. At worst, it’s counterproductive.

“Roxas,” Ven imitates, shaking with a suppressed giggle. He’s doing a poor job hiding it, seeing as he’s still clinging and Roxas can feel Ven’s stifled laughter reverberate through his spine. “If you work with me here, I’ll buy you dinner. And ice cream. Promise.”

“You mean Terra will buy us dinner and ice cream,” Roxas says. No one is allowed to accuse Roxas of delinquency. (Read:Riding his skateboard in the botanical garden one time. And he skipping school but only because Naminé needed a favor. And spray paint is an art, not vandalism, thank you very much.) It’s Ven’s fault for all the time Roxas’s heart spent near his. Ven only gets away with it because he’s cuter, which is a great injustice of the universe considering they look identical.

Ven detaches himself from Roxas and Roxas does not shiver because he is not cold and does not miss having Ven as his cuddly personal heater. “Rude,” Ven says, wagging his finger somewhere in Roxas’s direction. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but I can’t believe you would accuse me of taking advantage of my dear friend’s generosity like that.”

“I didn’t accuse you of anything, but thanks for incriminating yourself so I don’t have to.”

Ven pouts, because of course he does, and Roxas pulls out his phone again to take a picture for the Ven Pouting Compilation group chat. “You implied it,” Ven says. “Anyway. Do we have a deal or not?”

“Fine,” Roxas says, dragging the word across the space of ten syllables instead of one, “if I can get a sprinkle bar.”

“You can have two sprinkle bars if you stop being moody.” Ven drags Roxas over to the next aisle of assorted winter wear leftover from last month as Radiant Garden greets spring. (It’s on a different seasonal axis from the Land of Departure, whatever that means. Aqua is an expert on the subject, but Roxas is confident that it won’t be on any of his math tests.)

“Sounds tempting, but unrealistic.”

“This is true. How about these?” Ven holds up an ice blue puffy coat thicker than Olette’s aunt’s overfed cat and two sweaters in different colors of argyle.

“No,” Roxas says. “The coat would be too warm and impossible to move in and, unlike you, I’m not a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd,” Ven says.

“You subjected my poor ears to your analysis of twelfth century seasonal poetry as a metaphor for the cycle of loss of innocence in a period of societal instability not two hours ago.”

“Aha! So you were listening!” Ven pumps his fist but he does it all wrong so it doesn’t look cool at all because he’s a nerd. The puffy coat and both sweaters fall to the floor and the plastic hangers clatter against the linoleum, making both of them flinch. Ven reaches to pick them up and put them away.

“Was not,” Roxas says, though it’s a few beats too late to have any impact.

“Sure, sure. What about these?” Ven present another polar fleece, this time in tangerine, a misplaced suit jacket, and a denim jacket.

Roxas points at them from left to right. “No, no, and . . . maybe.”

Ven grins and tosses him the denim jacket. Roxas makes a valiant effort to pull it on over his shirt but the sleeves are too small around the wrist and the collar is too tight around his throat and too stiff to fold down. The buttons are too few and far apart for leaving it undone to be an option. Roxas sighs for what feels like the zillionth time that day, maybe even that hour.

“Okay, okay, so that didn’t work out like we hoped. Let’s not give up.” With renewed determination, Ven examines the rest of the rack and snatches a faux leather duster, whirling around to face Roxas with his mouth stretched concerningly wide. “This is perfect!” he says.

Roxas looks it over, frowns, and shakes his head. “No. Put it back.”

Ven flicks his hand. “Come on now, Roxas, now you’re just being difficult.”

“I don’t like it.”

Ven continues his steady approach and Roxas steps back away from him. “Why not? It’s brown, a nice boring color, it should keep you warm enough, it’s easy to move in, and it should fit. Just try it on, you’ll love it.”

Roxas pauses. He can’t refute any of Ven’s points, not in a way he knows how to put into words, so he exhales and gingerly takes the offered coat. He pulls the flared sleeves over his arms, tugs at the front, and does the first button. His hands start to shake, then the rest of his body and his eyes glaze over, vision blurry with tears but he won’t cry, he can’t cry, only real people with real hearts and real feelings cry. With unsteady fingers, he undoes the first button and shrugs the coat off on to the floor. He can hear Ven calling his name but Roxas feels weighed down by the coat, even though it’s no longer on his body, even though no one is making him wear than uniform anymore. His tongue is too heavy to answer.

“Heck,” Ven says. “Heck, heck, heck, I’m sorry Roxas. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, let’s just get you that sprinkle bar, okay?”

Roxas nods and even manages to crack a small smile at the fact that Ven says heck. What a nerd. Ven picks up the coat, puts it back in it’s rightful place, and extends his hand to Roxas. Roxas nods and grips it, following Ven out of the store when something catches his eye. He tugs at Ven’s hand and points out a gray and blue flannel with fluffy lining sitting on the returns rack, tag intact. Ven grabs it and hands it to Roxas, who spends a moment admiring how soft it is before letting go of Ven’s hand to try it on. He does up the buttons. Perfect fit.

“Looks good,” Ven says. “You want it?”

“Yeah.” Roxas pulls out his wallet and they go up to the cash register to pay for it. Roxas takes it off and ties it around his waist as they leave the store. Ven raises his hand for a high five and Roxas jumps up to slap it even though they’re the same height.

“Success!” Ven cheers. “Man, am I glad to be done though. C’mon, let’s grab dinner quickly before we’re missed two long.”

Ven smiles and honestly, how is Roxas the only one who’s caught on to how devious he is?! “I’ll even get you two sprinkle bars.”

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, I'm still managing to do this...I am so powerful.  
> Honestly, this was actually meant to be a slightly angstier fic at first but I was having too much fun with Rox and Ven being snarky and also I wanted to complain about clothes shopping in fanfic format because. Ugh. Whoever thought fluorescents + linoleum is a good combination is an idiot. (Looking at you Value Village...)  
> Anyway, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out and it was fun to write so that's good. If you want to chat or see what art I retweet or something you can catch me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/CrepusculeChaos), don't be shy! Thanks for reading, catch ya later!


End file.
